Tender Apprehensions
by Commander
Summary: /Rescuers/ A rainy night. Only one inn. With only one vacant room, with only one bed. If Bernard can just keep his distance from Bianca, he should be able to avoid saying or doing anything rash. But Bianca's not one for keeping distances. One shot.


(AN: Like most authors, I am my own worst critic, and that plus the fact that I'm totally out of practice in writing fluff (I'm a total angst-bucket and make no apologies) makes me not sure what to think of this story. I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with it, but I'm not unhappy with it either, so I think despite its blemishes it's still worth posting. Besides, it's pretty much the first thing I've written in months, and I miss reviews and feedback. ;

That said, I'd appreciate feedback on this, seeing as it's my first attempt writing for these characters. Bernard and Bianca turned out to be a pleasant challenge to write—there aren't really characters like either of them in any of my other fandoms, and certainly no characters I've written for have a relationship like theirs. This was a fun exercise to write, and if nothing else, I hope that shows in my writing. :)

_The Rescuers, The Rescuers Down Under, _Bernard, and Bianca belong to Disney. Yay disclaimers.

Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you have the time.)

…………

"Mrs. Haskell's Bed and Breakfast Inn" looked far more imposing than the name implied, Bernard thought wearily to himself. The fact that it was nearly 10:00 at night and that a thunderstorm was raging certainly didn't help matters, but the small box-shaped building—in fact, it _was _a human made box with a few holes punched in it for doors and windows—looked shabby, uninviting.

"There's got to be another place to stay somewhere," he muttered.

"But Bernard," said Bianca, having to raise her voice to be heard above the storm, "we've looked all through this town and this is the only place! Please, let's stay here for the night."

"It's just a box," said Bernard, wrinkling his nose. "We'll probably be wetter in there than we are standing out here."

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover!" Holding her handbag over her head, Bianca was already heading for the makeshift mouse hotel. "We're staying here!"

"If we just keep walking, maybe we'll… find… a better… place." Bernard's voice trailed off as he realized that he'd already lost the argument.

"Of course… this'll work too… I suppose."

…………

Mrs. Haskell was old, grumpy-faced, and seemed to show no sympathy for Bernard and Bianca as they entered her inn, drenched to the bone. She glanced up at them once as they bustled in; first Bianca, then Bernard, struggling to keep up with her; but then turned her attentions back to the log book.

Bianca either didn't notice the discourtesy, or didn't mind it if she did. "Good evening, ma'am," she said with a friendly smile. "My companion and I need lodgings tonight—do you have any vacancies?"

"Lemme see." Mrs. Haskell slowly stood up and made her way to the key wall, where there seemed to be only a few keys dangling.

Bernard sighed impatiently, but as quietly as possible. It had been a long day—he and Bianca were sent to aid a rabbit in trouble (the Rescue Aid Society was not limited to human beings, after all). It was close enough to headquarters that air travel was unnecessary, and they had easily made the journey to the farm where the rabbit was caught in a trap, set by an irritated farmer, by foot. But releasing him proved trickier than either Bernard or Bianca had expected, and it was only when dusk, along with the beginnings of a storm, set in that the rabbit was finally let free. The quickening darkness and rain made it clear that the mice would have to stop somewhere for the night.

"You two are in luck. One room left. Room eight. Follow me." She grabbed a key and hurried up the stairs, apparently wanting to get the drenched lodgers out of her lobby as quickly as possible. Bernard and Bianca scurried after her.

Room eight was at the very end of the hall, right across from the bathroom. Mrs. Haskell opened the door for the two weary mice. "Here you go. Sleep tight." And with that, still holding the key, she was gone.

Bernard and Bianca peered into the room.

"Oh dear," Bianca murmured.

The room was tiny. One small window was cut into the opposite end from the door, with no curtains or shades. There was only one bed, with one nightstand that held a small lamp. And that was all. There wasn't even a chair in the room.

"We're not staying here," Bernard protested.

"Yes we are," Bianca said briskly, with a resolute smile. "It is dry and warm and that is all that matters. And I can sleep on the floor."

"What?" Bernard said, shocked that she'd even think that. "No, no, Miss Bianca, I—I'll sleep on the floor. I insist."

"It's really no trouble for me—"

"No… no, really, I insist."

"Alright then." Bianca shrugged and smiled. "As long as you're sure you'll be comfortable…"

"I-I'll be fine," Bernard stammered. He sat down on the floor next to the bed and stretched out his legs. "See? Plenty of room."

Bianca laughed lightly, a sound that sounded almost like bells chiming. "You are always so adaptable, darling. Are there any towels in here?" she asked, pulling her arms close to her body and trying to shiver off the dampness.

"There's nothing in here but the bed," Bernard muttered sullenly.

"I'll go over to the bathroom and look for some," said Bianca, heading across the hall.

Bernard leaned against the wall, sighing helplessly. He had been looking forward to getting home to his own house, with his own bed, and not some little hole in a box…

_But it won't be so bad, _he reminded himself. _Bianca's here._

No, that just made it… _worse. _Infinitely better, because everything was always better when she was with him, and yet still worse. Even if they weren't in the same bed, just sleeping in the same _room _with her… He noticed he could hear his heart beating and gulped, trying to steady himself.

Bianca seemed to waltz back into the room, in that way she had of captivating the attention of any and every man who happened to be watching her. "There was only one. I guess this is what happens when we are the last vacancy to be filled!" She was still smiling. Holding the towel out towards Bernard, she said, "Here, dry yourself off."

"No, no, you should—"

"Bernard, you are far wetter and colder than me!" laughed Bianca, draping the towel over his shoulders and patting him somewhat dry. Bernard bit his lip, trying to keep himself from shivering from her touch.

"There, that should keep you warm." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, darling."

"G-goodnight, Bianca," Bernard managed to say. It wasn't as if her kissing him was a new experience—heck, she had practically been doing it from the day they met. And that was what made it so shocking, so able to stun him each and every time. Did she really feel… something… anything like the way he felt for her, or was this just teasing? Or her just being herself?

She was absolutely maddening. And, he realized, she didn't even seem to realize that she was.

She crawled into bed, switching off the light on the end table. Bernard shut his eyes tightly and laid down on the floor. There was no carpet. The only bit of softness he had was the towel, which was already cold from being used to dry him.

"Uh… Bianca, do… do you have an extra pillow I could use?"

"Of course!" Bianca reached for the other pillow on the double bed, leaned over as if to hand it to him, then suddenly stopped. "Oh, Bernard, this is silly!" she cried. "There is plenty of room for both of us in this bed. You don't have to sleep on the floor! Come up to the bed!"

"Uh, er, Miss Bianca, I'm not sure that's such a, a good idea," Bernard stammered, looking up at her despite his better judgment. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, framing her slender, elegant figure.

"Don't worry." Bianca smiled gently. "There'll be no 'hanky-panky'." The low rumble of thunder seemed to accentuate her words.

Bernard gulped. "No, no really, I really shouldn't…"

"Well then." Bianca abruptly sat up and hopped off the bed, sitting right next to Bernard. "If you're not going to sleep in the bed, then neither am I!"

"Bianca, you're being silly—"

"So are you! So I'll be silly right along with you on the floor!"

Bernard stumbled for words, trying to find some sort of argument against her, and against her fierce, determined stare.

"…Alright," he finally sighed, standing up and climbing up on the bed.

"I knew you'd see it my way," she said playfully, her fierce look instantly gone. She too made her way back up on the bed.

Bernard remained as close to the edge of the bed as possible, his nose almost in the nightstand. This would be workable, this would be workable, this would be workable—all he had to do was avoid touching her and it could work—even though they were in the same bed, he had been this close to her before, somehow managing to sleep on Orville's terrifying flights, with Bianca snuggled up close to him—

Bianca snuggled up close to him, pulling the blankets up around them.

"Bianca, please…" Bernard protested, although he couldn't finish his sentence, having made the mistake of turning his head and looking into her gentle, sparkling eyes.

"I'm cold," she said, smiling up at him like always. "We can keep each other warm." She wrapped her arms around his body.

_Say something. Say anything, _his mind demanded. But her eyes held both his gaze and his tongue.

Bianca's eyes softened, and her smile became more demure, more bashful. "Have you ever been with a girl like this before?"

Bernard's jaw dropped.

"Uh… uh… no, I haven't," he finally managed to choke out. "In fact, I didn't even think that _this _was like this… I mean, uh…" He mentally kicked himself. Articulate he wasn't.

"It's alright, darling," Bianca interrupted gently. "I haven't either."

"You… you haven't?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" she giggled. "I've always enjoyed the company of men, of course, but I never stayed with any of them for very long."

"Why?"

"I got tired of them… either that or they got tired of me," she laughed.

"I find that hard to believe," Bernard said, awkwardly.

"Really? Why is that?"

"You really… you really don't know what you do to people, do you?" he said quickly. "You don't know what you do to… to _me…"_

Her playful smile was gone. "To you? What do I do to you?"

He sat up in bed, wrenching himself out of her grasp. "You just said it," he said softly. "You… don't you notice how almost every man looks at you? Everyone is mesmerized by you, and you… you play along with them. Whether you mean to or not. And I just can't…"

"You can't what?" Bianca prodded, when Bernard's voice had trailed off.

"Nothing," he said. If he went any farther he'd be blurting out things he shouldn't. He had already said too much as it was. He wasn't there to fall in love with his co-agent—although it was already too late for that.

Far too late.

Bianca drew back slowly. "So… so you don't want me to…"

Oh no. He had hurt her. "Bianca, I…" he said quickly, taking her hand in his. She looked at him in surprise. He hesitated before finally continuing, in a defeated tone. "I _do _want you to. That's the problem. I want it… _too _much."

"Too much?" she repeated, confused.

"Yes… too much." He still held on to her hand and stroked it, trying to comfort her despite his words. "Unlike you, I've… I've never flirted, never had anyone special, but with you… I could never grow tired of you, Bianca, but what if you grew tired of me?"

She looked down at her hand in his, and it was all Bernard could do to restrain himself from completely abandoning all logic and self-control and just taking her in his arms and kissing her. He had all but blurted out his feelings for her already, something that he hadn't intended on doing… well, maybe not forever, but not for at least a long time, time enough to decipher Bianca's intentions.

Bianca looked back up at him, smiling, eyes sparkling. "But Bernard, darling, I don't think I'll ever grow tired of you. If I had, I would have already by now! I've known you for a year now and I still feel closer and closer to you each day—I've never been that close to anyone. I've never even stayed with anyone long enough to get that close. Like I said… I've never been with a man like this before." She gave him another kiss on the cheek.

"Bianca!" Bernard blurted out forcefully. She recoiled a bit from him, startled. "Bianca, if you're going to kiss me," he continued, the words tumbling out of his mouth, "at least do it like—"

And then, consciously doing it quickly so as to beat the kicking in of his common sense, he wrapped his arms around her and brought his lips to hers.

It wasn't very long. It wasn't very forceful. Only a second or two had passed before he pulled away, perhaps a bit too fast, his jaw hanging open in shock at himself at what he'd just done.

Bianca looked shocked, too, but only for a moment. "You… you _kissed _me!" she said, beaming.

Bernard tried to get his jaw to work again so that he could say something, but Bianca fell on top of him, sending them both lying down on the bed. "You _kissed _me!" she repeated, smiling in wonderment. "Oh, you dear, you _kissed _me! Do you know how long I have been waiting for you to do that?"

"Why—why didn't you just do it then?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I wanted _you _to!" She sighed blissfully, one arm resting on his chest, the other hand stroking his face tenderly. "You _do _love me." It came out as a sigh, hardly articulated, but still completely understandable. "I thought you did. I _hoped _you did."

"Yes," whispered Bernard, almost with relief. "I do… I have for a long time, actually."

"And you never said anything," said Bianca with a hint of playfulness in her voice, moving her other hand also to his face.

"_Everyone _loves you," Bernard protested.

"That cannot possibly be true!" laughed Bianca.

"But it is." He raised his arms and carefully put them around her shoulders. "You're—you're trembling," he said, surprised.

"I already told you, I'm cold… and also…" Her voice grew softer, and she half closed her eyes, laying her head on his chest, her hands sliding down off his face. "I've never felt this way before."

"You… you really feel…" Despite Bianca's constant cuddling and kisses, Bernard still found it hard to believe that of all the men to develop feelings for, she'd fall for _him, _pretty much the only male who _didn't _flirt with her.

"Oh yes," she breathed. "It's nothing to be scared about, so I feel a little silly for…"

"I'm—I'm shaking as much as you are," Bernard admitted.

"That's because we're both still damp," giggled Bianca. She got off of him and crawled back under the covers, but once there turned and looked at him with soft, loving eyes.

"Hold me."

Her gentle command sent Bernard hurrying to her side in a second, instantly obeying by wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Bianca smiled at him warmly, pulled the covers up around their bodies before wrapping her arms around him as well, and gently pulled them both down onto their pillows.

Bernard returned her smile, his trembling becoming less and less pronounced. It seemed to him that not much had really changed between them—well, despite the fact that they were laying in bed together and kissing and had admitted that they loved each other—but Bianca's gentle ease and familiarity were still there, as well as his own… well, his own timidity and awkwardness. But the former was what he loved about Bianca in the first place, and the latter, inconceivable as it might be, seemed to be what Bianca loved about him.

They lay gazing into each other's eyes for a few moments before finding themselves caught up in a kiss that neither had initiated, yet somehow happened all the same. The suddenness of it caused Bianca to laugh in her throat, which in turn caused Bernard to pull away from her lips, surprised.

Bianca giggled. "Sorry I startled you."

"Oh, that's… that's alright—"

A sudden flash of thunder and lightening rattled the inn so violently that both Bernard and Bianca let out shrieks of surprise, clutching each other even tighter.

A second or two later, their shock dying down, Bernard commented, wryly but still shaking a bit, "Th-that startled me far worse, though."

Bianca grinned, touching a delicate finger to his cheek. "Now aren't you glad we stayed here tonight? If we hadn't, I might have never got you to kiss me!"

Bernard smirked. "Oh, so it was all part of your plan then?"

"No, but I'm still very happy with the outcome!" She nestled into his chest. "Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight," Bernard murmured, one hand reaching up to cradle the back of her head, still with a timid caution. He still felt, he realized, to some degree terrified… terrified that this wouldn't last.

"Bianca—" he whispered before he could stop himself.

"Hmm?" Bianca murmured against his body.

"Please…" He sighed helplessly. "Please never grow tired of me… I don't think you know how much… how much I need you."

Bianca looked up at him with loving eyes. "Oh, Bernard, you dear… I promise I will never grow tired of you. I love you, and I want to be with you always." And suddenly, her eyes grew startlingly downcast. "But you must promise me the same thing, that you won't be like everyone else…"

"Oh, God, Bianca," Bernard cried out rather forcefully, causing both mice to jump a bit, "I don't even see how everyone else _could _grow tired of you!"

Bianca sighed happily, nestling back down into him.

"You're more important to me than anything or anyone else," Bernard said, his voice far softer. "I… I don't think I could bear the thought of… a life without you."

"Good… neither can I." Her voice was so soft, it was almost inaudible against the steady rain.

Her nerves must have settled and sleep was overcoming her, because that was exactly what was happening to Bernard. He closed his eyes, his arms still wrapped around her—and hers around him—their words echoing in his mind.

"_I don't think I could bear the thought of… a life without you."_

"_Good… neither can I."_

A life together…

…possibly in marriage?

Perhaps it was just due to his sleepiness, but the thought didn't scare him.

As a matter of fact, he fell asleep with a smile on his face, his last drowsy thought before finally surrendering to sleep being…

…_I like the sound of that._


End file.
